Anchor
by annavale23
Summary: "Never turn your back on your enemy. You taught me that." Those words haunt Grant Ward's every moment, ever since the love of his life shot him. Agent 33 and him are on the run, & Grant's trying to put any emotion he felt for Skye away. But when she comes searching for him for help, will he be able to deny her? (Ward/Kara brotp, Skyeward romance). Speculation after 2x10. Please R&R
1. Chapter 1: No Purpose Without Them

**Hey, guys! After watching 2x10 of S.H.I.E.L.D, I couldn't help it. I had to write a fic on what happens next. Speculation only, and of course it's Skyeward (eventually). In this first Chapter, we have what happened after Ward and Agent 33 escaped from Puerto Rico, after Ward was shot by Skye. Sorry if I got anything wrong! (In the story, with placing of the wounds, or how you treat wounds. I'm not a doctor!)**

**Anything I write on Agent 33 will be my own headcanon, so in a way, she's an OC, since how she acts in the show will be changed slightly to fit this fic. **

**Anyway, this starts off as a Agent 33/Ward brotp (with absolutely _no_ romantic interest between them) and then later moves on to Skye/Ward. (Which will be so romantic, I hope!)**

**This will probably update weekly, or every 5 or 6 days. **

**Enjoy! And please tell me what you thought in a review!**

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><p><span><strong>CHAPTER ONE: NO PURPOSE WITHOUT <em>THEM<em>.**

_**Grant**_

We drive out into the mountains, her at the wheel, me in the passenger seat. I press a hand to my chest gently, grimacing as I shift slightly, my wounds protesting. I'm in no condition to drive, not since _she_ shot me.

Skye.

She shot me, just as I taught her. But I had to hand it to her, shooting me so mercilessly...I almost saw a piece of me in her. (But it was all wrong on her, the once gentle hacker girl).

But enough about her. I'm not going to waste my time thinking about her anymore. Skye showed me quite brutally where her loyalties lay. And they were _definitely_ not with me. (The bullets currently lodged in my chest showed that).

"Stop thinking about her, Agent Ward." Her voice is soft, tinged with a electric static. I glance at my travel companion, Agent 33, the May look alike. She sits in the driver seat, her scarred face strangely not terrifying. Maybe because I've seen worse things. Or maybe because I am a worse thing.

"How could you tell?" I ask her, my chest hurting. Getting shot hurts like a bitch, but getting shot by the girl you love hurts worse. Because that shows you that she really, really didn't love you back.

"She shot you, Ward. So stop this silly delusion of loving her, and concentrate on surviving." 33 replies, choosing not to reply to my previous comment.

"Sure, 'cause it's that easy." I mutter sarcastically, but she ignores me, her fingers gripping the wheel tightly until her knuckles turn white from the strain.

I don't even know who this woman with Melinda May's face is. I don't even know her real name! When we were at S.H.I.E.L.D, I never met Agent 33, and while I was working for Whitehall, I never asked. Yet without her, I'll die. And she knows that without me, she'll have no purpose. Not now that her master, Daniel Whitehall, is dead. And she'll die without purpose. So I guess we're in an agreement of convenience.

I close my eyes, trying to push the pain down as Agent 33 keeps driving on into the mountains in hope of a safe place to stay.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Stay still!" 33 commands as she lifts my shirt off over my head to check my wounds. I hiss in pain, but she ignores me, balling my shirt up and tossing it to one end of the bed. We found a decent sized abandoned cabin here in the mountain, and 33 decided that this would be the best place to stay until I'm better. (Although none of us have any idea of how long that might be. Neither of us have any medical training, except for the basics, really). 33 inspects my wounds before running into the bathroom, coming back with a wet washcloth. She sits back down next to me, tying her hair up with a Hello Kitty decorated scrunchie we picked up in the Walmart we passed on our way here, among with some medical supplies, food and water. Luckily she had some cash on her, tucked away into the lining of her jacket.

"Now, I'm going to wash the bullet wounds, check if the bullets are still in there." She cautions. "It might hurt."

"I can deal with pain." I inform her, closing my eyes as she leans over me and tentatively starts to dab at the skin surrounding the four bullet shots, cleaning it up enough to see the actually wounds. It hurts, but I ignore the pain. Well, actually, I relish it. Somehow, it helps me to think clearly, maybe for the first time in years. It was so stupid of me to trust Skye. To think that she might actually love me back one day.

_Well, I'm done with her_. I think, as 33 finishes up cleaning my wounds. _I'm so done with her._ She tilts me on my side to check on the back of my body, to see if Skye's bullets penetrated all the way through. I grimace in pain. She pushes me back down gently, and I swallow drily.

33 rubs her hands together. She swings one leg over my waist, sitting lightly on my stomach. I raise an eyebrow questioningly even as my shoulder burns.

"I have to get two of the bullets out." She explains. "The other two went all the way through. Okay?"

I nod, gritting my teeth, preparing for the pain that's sure to follow. Agent 33 doesn't hesitate, just leaning forward, her hair tips tickling me lightly, and shoving her index and middle fingers into my open wounds, digging away for the bullets lodged there. I try to ignore the squelching sound my raw flesh makes (this isn't the first time people have had to remove bullets from my body without being in a hospital or lab) as 33 pulls out the first bullet triumphantly, her fingers stained with blood. (My blood looks like anyone else's, I see. You can't tell I'm broken from my blood, it seems). She drops it down on to the bed grimly and prepares to extract the next one.

.

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><p>.<p>

Two days later, and 33's helping me into my shirt, which she's rinsed out as best she could from all the blood. I wince slightly as I move my left shoulder, but I don't comment in it. Neither does 33. My wound is covered up with sterile wrappings, but my wound keeps bleeding through. Our solution? A_ lot_ more gauze.

"What do we do next?" She asks me, her voice ringing out with a metallic edge that grates on my ears. I stare at her incredulously. Is she asking _me_ for orders? Then again, she did just lose the guy she was desperate to please, due to her brainwashing. Maybe she just wants someone, anyone, to save her. Just like I did after Garrett died. No one helped me. But maybe I can help her.

"First off, we need to get some supplies." I tell her, although I'm uncomfortable with the role I've been forced into. Who will give me my purpose? But I don't think about my own worries. _Compartmentalise, Ward_. I tell myself. _Concentrate on her. Not you._ "I've got some supply lockers still. All we need is a map."

"We've got one." 33 looks happy to reply, maybe relishing the lack of control she has over her own actions. "In the car."

"Okay." I nod, touching my chest subconsciously. The bullet wounds are still fresh, and I hiss slightly in pain as I press too hard. Got to watch that, Ward. "We'll coordinate our next moves around that. We'll be safe for awhile, before Coulson tries to find us."

"He killed Whitehall." 33 mumbles. I make a note to avoid using Coulson's name, lest it be a trigger for her. I need 33 to be in control, because right now, I'm defenceless without her.

"Yeah." I acknowledge slowly. "But how about we stop thinking about those two, yeah?"

"Okay." 33 agrees. "Perhaps it would be better to stop thinking about them. If you agree to stop thinking about that girl." She pierced me with a look that reminds me of May.

"Agreed." I hold out a hand for her to shake, which she does hesitantly. "We stop thinking about those three."

"I'll get the map." She skips out of the room, looking at peace now that she's got purpose. I stare after her, missing the days when I knew what to do. And if I didn't, I always knew that Garrett was just a phone call away.

But then he turned legitimately insane.

My loyalty once belonged to him. The man who claimed to give me a home, when really all it meant was serving him, his desires, without question.

Then to her...Skye, the only light in my darkness. The girl I loved, and the girl who shot me as soon as I turned away from her.

And now...it belongs to no one but myself. Which is a frightening prospect. I swallow nervously.

_Okay, Grant Ward_. I tell myself firmly. _Your mission is to make sure that Agent 33 stays sane and doesn't try and kill you. Because you need allies, and she's the only one willing to help you. She's the only one who might understand what it's like to see your master die._ Brainwashed or not, anyway you put it, Agent 33 and I are the same. Both pathetic dogs, lost without an owner.

.

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><p>.<p>

We plot a route out on the map, drawing a crude line with a pencil she found in the car. 33 points out that we're going to have to careful.

"What if they find us?" It doesn't take a genius to understand she's talking about S.H.I.E.L.D. Instead of answering, I go on with the plan.

"Here's the plan." I tell her. "I'll walk in, get the supplies, get to the car, we'll drive to the nearest mall and pick up more essentials."

"Got it." 33 nods. "Seems simple."

"And if we run into _anyone_..." I emphasize _anyone_ so she'll understand I mean the ones who will not be named.

"What do we do, Ward?" She asks quietly. "Fight? Or run?"

"Run." I decide firmly. "Run as fast as you can, in the opposite direction. Do not engage them, not even if they engage you. Just get out of there and run, okay?"

"Understood." She nods.

.

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><p>.<p>

Our supply run goes off without incident. I slip in and out of the train station, picking up the backpack loaded with money, weapons and passports. We bring it back to our cabin in the mountains, after refilling our car and buying a few clothing items and canned food. I sort out the supplies on the bed, having changed into a fresh shirt and jeans. The clean clothes are a blessing after what I've been forced to wear recently. Under my shirt, my wound is covered in gauze and bandages, and hasn't leaked for the first time in days.

33 prises open a can of fruit salad with a fork expertly and starts to stab at the fruit with the fork, eating it delicately. She licks up the juices enthusiastically, her eyes briefly closing as she savours the crisp fruity taste.

"So, what's our next move, Ward?" She asks, chewing on a melon slice. She swallows it visibly, licking the fork clean.

"Well, we need to keep moving, so maybe a safe house?" I suggest. 33 sighs.

"I have...an idea." She suggests tentatively. I look at her, immediately realising that she feels uncertain about if she's allows to voice her opinion. I try to smile reassuringly. (She reminds me of what I might have become, if someone had tried to save me from my hell, like I'm doing with 33).

"What is it?" I ask her, keeping my voice light. It's a lot of hard work, helping 33, but it keeps me from worrying about my own problems. And anyway, it's almost like my own personal form of redemption. But not for anyone else. Just for my own benefit. (Definitely not for you anymore Skye).

"Maybe if we get a good safe house, positioned in a key city, and make that our base?" She says, biting her bottom lip nervously. "Use it as a base of operations, for a few months."

"That...might actually work." I say slowly. "I could recover from my injury until we think of what we want to do next."

33 smiles brightly, pleased I liked her idea. But then her face falls suddenly, crumpling in on itself.

"What's wrong?" I ask her, concerned. (See, I'm not a _complete_ robot, Skye!).

"My face." She whispers. "I can't go anywhere with my face." Her finger tips tip toe over the scarred flesh quietly. "They were all looking at me today, and I had a hood on. But they could see." She swallows, her disgust at her appearance clear for anyone to see.

Impulsively, I lean over to her and pull her hair out of the ponytail. 33 blinks at me surprised as I flip some of her hair over the right side of her face, hiding her scar.

"We'll trim this piece of hair into a side fringe." I tell her. "If you wear your hair like this, people will just think it's a hair style. Plus, there's always sunglasses." I tease. 33 exhales gently, her fingers still on her scar, now covered by a hunk of her black hair.

"Thank you, Ward." She says softly. "Thanks."

"No problem." I shift, awkwardly. "We'll leave in the morning, okay?"

"Okay."

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><p><strong>What did you think? Did I do it good? Please tell in a review!<strong>

**(Also, if you care, the cover photo of this is the HYDRA logo is blurred out in some places, as it's lost a bit of power, and SHIELD is rising up again. I made it myself!)**


	2. Chapter 2: Communication Is Difficult

**Hey, guys! I am simply blown away with the response from the first chapter! I'm so happy that you guys are liking it so far.**

**Thank you so, _so_ much for all the reviews, favourites and follows! :)**

**I hope you like this chapter as well.**

**Please review!**

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><p><em><strong>Grant<strong>_

"So which safe house will we be using?" Agent 33 asks me. I glance at her as I continue to pack up our meagre possessions. Her hair, while still jet black like May's, is cut roughly to form a side fringe to cover her scarred face, the rest of her hair tied up in the hello kitty scrunchie she's strangely fond of. For a former HYDRA agent, albeit a brainwashed one, she isn't half attached to a scrunchie decorated with a frolicking Japanese kitty cat. I pull down the edge of my shirt, seeing my bandages are still white. My wounds are healing then. That's reassuring.

"Well, I was thinking either D.C. or California?" I suggest. 33 shoots me a withering look. She's become a lot more confident in these last few days.

"Not California." She says firmly. "Firstly, it's too far away, and secondly, I'll get too hot with my hair in my face."

"So D.C?" I confirm, handing her the bag, since we're advising for me to rest, so I can recover without damaging my body further. 33 lifts the bag easily onto her shoulder.

"Let's go." She says as her answer, walking out of the room. I follow her quickly, and we get into our car.

Although I know it's risky to keep with a stolen car, I have a feeling that Coulson won't be chasing us just yet. I think that something must of happened in the underground city. So I think we'll be fine, at least until we're half way to D.C.

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><p>In the car, 33 drives with ease, her hands still tight in the wheel though, as if it's going to slip out of her grip. I lean back in my seat, my chest throbbing. I adjust my position slightly, my mind flashing back to that moment where Skye fired on me.<p>

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!_

_Grant stumbled backwards, hitting the floor hard, as he stared at the woman he once called his Rookie in shock. He glances down to his chest and saw his shirt was turning red. He couldn't understand why, though. What had happened?_

_Grant's eyes flick back up to Skye and that's when he sees it._

_The gun._

**_In._**

**_Her._**

**_Hands._**

_"Never turn your back on your enemy." She tells him, her voice hard and uncaring. "You taught me that, remember?" She steps over his body and hurries away._

_Grant blinks, unable to do anything as his brain attempts to process the pain he should be feeling._

_What has Skye turned into? He wonders, just before his eyes start to close. Just for a brief nap._

"Ward." 33's voice cuts through the thick cloud of my thoughts. "Are you okay? Your injury hurting you?"

"Not that much." I lie easily. Unfortunately, 33's good at picking up on liars. She was S.H.I.E.L.D, after all. She raises her one visible eyebrow.

"We'll pick up some Tylenol at the next town we pass through." She says. "Because I doubt they'll give us stronger pain killers."

"I don't take strong pain killers anyway." I answer, leaning my head back.

"Not even if you're in a lot of pain?" 33 asks me, surprised.

"I don't like them." I explain. "They make me...compromised. I can't keep my thoughts in check when I'm doped up."

"Still, that's a lot of pain you'll endure." 33 points out. "Was it worth it? Avoiding painkillers even though you needed them?"

"People called me a legend back at S.H.I.E.L.D for my pain tolerance." I shrug with one shoulder, casually dodging her question.

"You didn't answer my question." She says quietly, her eyes fixed on the road in front of her. She's clever. I half smile to myself. Very clever.

"Nothing's ever worth it." I reply in a quite voice. "Not unless you win."

"Who taught you that?" 33 asks quietly.

"What?"

"That sounds like a phrase that you've learnt, parroted back." 33 explains. "So who taught you that?"

"John Garrett." The name comes unbidden from my lips, surprising me. 33 remains silent as I sigh.

"He basically taught me everything I know." I elaborate, although she didn't ask me too. The words have started flowing, and I can't seem to stop them.

"He died." It's a statement, not a question, from 33. I nod.

"He was crazy at the end. Whatever he turned I to...that wasn't John and I don't think he was meant to survive." I swallow, remembering what Garrett was at the end. A mad man claiming to be able to see everything. To understand the reason why, the why behind everything.

He needed to die, because that was not the man I knew. That was something entirely different, and creepy.

33 realises that I probably don't want to discuss Garrett anymore than she wants to discuss Whitehall, so she shuts up and concentrates on her driving.

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><p>The safe house is cold and empty, but it's perfect for us to live in. 33 makes us dinner - barely cooked pasta, because it seems cooking is not her strong suit - and half forces the Tylenol down my throat. To be honest, the only reason I take it is because she reminds me of May. Bit because she looks like May (well, she does, but that's not why), but because of how she acts, when she's not feeling vulnerable. Strong, like May. Only difference is with 33, I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not. All I am to her is the person who keeps her grounded, while I float aimlessly through life, having no idea what or who I am.<p>

33 and I part ways once we've finished eating, each of us going to our separate rooms. I sit down heavily on mine, a hand drifting my my wound.

_The first thing I ever let myself want, and she shoots me. Typical._ I think to myself bitterly. _Just like always. Everything I want to protect ends up trying to get rid of me._

I lie down, my head hitting the pillow as I try to get some sleep.

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><p>But as usual, sleep does not come easily. I've always had trouble sleeping, ever since I can remember. At first, it was the constant fear of Christian: who knew when he could choose to walk in my room, ready to torment me? Then it was the woods, because there was always one more job that had to be done for Garrett. Next it was being a specialist. A full night's sleep was a rare gift, one I rarely got - or asked for. Sleep was a privilege Garrett had told me I didn't deserve, so I learnt how to battle on regardless of my tiredness.<p>

And lastly...it was Skye.

Not in a sexual way, but because I loved her, and it confused me. I'd been living a cover for so long, and before that the nicer emotions of human beings were rarely shown to me, so it took Lorelei to show me what I was feeling.

I loved Skye.

Clearly, she did not feel the same way.

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><p>That night, 33 has a nightmare. I sit with her and help her through it. She screams and thrashes, until her throat goes hoarse, the wetness of tears coating her face. Her breathing is uneven, and she buries her head into my neck, her fingers grasping at my shirt in an iron grip.<p>

"I don't want to comply." She whispers in a broken voice. "What do I do? What do I do?" 33 repeats again and again, until I tell her to stop. I get her to look into my eyes.

"I'm not going to make you comply." I tell her in a gentle yet firm voice. "Tomorrow, you will get up and you will be fine."

"Promise?" Her tear filled eyes stare into mine, pleading with me. I try to smile.

"Promise."

She calms down finally and falls asleep in my lap.

I stare impassively into the night.

No one ever helps me.

"I don't know who I am." 33 tells me in a clam voice as we clean out the weapons we acquired. AKA, stole.

I glance up to look at her.

"What?" I ask, growing slightly. 33 and I have been together for a while now, and I've grown a little more used to the fact I'm her anchor. That she needs me to create her a purpose in life. And in return, not that she realises that this is what she's doing, she makes me concentrate on only her. Not Skye.

"I don't know who I am." She repeats. "My face isn't my face, and I can't remember who I was before. So who am I?"

I ponder that for a moment.

"What's your name?" I ask her. 33 gives me a confused look. "Your name. I can't keep calling you 'Agent 33', can I?" I try to inject a little humour into my tone. It fails dramatically, but it does manage to get a small smile out of 33. She reties her hair with that damn scrunchie, her fringe hanging low over her scar.

"Kara." 33 replies eventually. "My name's Kara."

"Hello, Kara. I'm Grant." I hold out a hand. Kara shakes it tentatively, as if wondering if she should shake her anchor's hand since she considers me her superior. "And for who you are, let me enlighten you." I get her to look me in the eyes again. "You are Kara. A Hello Kitty fanatic."

That earns a little splutter of laughter out of her. I smile slightly, glad that I can help her recover.

And a small, pitiful part of me wonders how I might have turned out if someone had taken the time to do this with me.

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><p>"I am loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D." Kara says to me a few days later. We're still based at the safe house, but currently we're grocery shopping. I push the trolley around, leaning on it heavily as I try not to show the discomfort from my wounds. Thanks a lot, Skye.<p>

"That's good." I tell her, chucking some pretzels in the trolley. Kara's a sucker for pretzels as well as that damn cat, it seems. Already, we have one stuffed pillow emblazoned with Hello Kitty in the trolley...and about 5 others at the house. "What made you come to that decision?" I ask her carefully. I've learnt that is how you navigate risky topics with Kara: you have to phrase your question carefully, or she'll implode.

"I remember being loyal to them." She shrugs. "And you tell me that they're the good guys. That's who I am. Kara, Hello Kitty fanatic, a terrible cook and loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D." She recites, as she does nearly every day. It's her way of confirming to herself who she really is. I'm glad to see her list is growing.

"Who are you, Grant?" Kara asks, May's face that is strangely also hers glancing at me. My heart sinks. This question she asks everyday. Her way of trying to help me, I think. But I can never really answer, because I don't even know who the real Grant Ward is anymore.

"I'm Grant Ward. Traitor, murderer, and Kara's anchor." I shrug, telling her what I always do: the truth.


	3. Chapter 3: Anchoring Her, Sinking Me

**Howdy! Here's the next chapter, which is unfortunately a lot shorter than the previous two. But I hope you enjoy it anyway! **

**About Ward and Kara's relationship: although it can read as romanticised, they are both merely helping the other recover after Whitehall and Garrett. **

**Thanks so much for the reviews, follows and favourites so far! :)**

**Enjoy, and please leave me a review at the end.**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter Three: Anchoring Her, Sinking Me<strong>

_**Grant**_

Kara screams out in her sleep again.

I help her through it.

I hold her still as she struggles, yelling that she doesn't want to comply.

I brush her hair away from her sweaty face as she sobs.

I watch over her until she falls back to sleep.

I anchor her to the ground.

But I'm sinking right into the ocean.

.

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><p>"Never turn your back on your enemy. You taught me that."<p>

.

* * *

><p>Kara laughs more now, I've noticed.<p>

But she still keeps the scar on her face covered up.

.

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><p>Kara and I clear myself for combat. Just not to strenuous.<p>

I tear the wounds back open within hours of that decision.

Not because I want to.

But because HYDRA attack us. A small renegade group tries to kidnap Kara.

We move from the D.C. safe house immediately.

Kara spends the plane journey crying silently as she squeezes her favourite Hello Kitty pillow.

.

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><p>We go to L.A.<p>

Where I first met her.

I can't say her name anymore.

.

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><p>"Grant?" Kara's voice reaches me through my stupor. I groan, my head pounding like I'm hungover. But I can't be, since I haven't had a drink for god knows how long. Maybe before I met Kara?<p>

"Kara." I croak, my throat sore. I cough, the noise rattling on my chest. Talking hurts, like I'm putting my throat on a razor sharp spinning blade.

"You're sick." She informs me.

"No I'm not. I don't get sick." I argue back, my tone insisting.

"You are." Kara raises both eyebrows at me, as if disbelieving that I would claim to be well when I probably look ill right now. My head is thumping, my chest aches and my throat is like sandpaper. I feel terrible.

"Not." I mumble as Kara helps me into a more comfortable position. I feel like shit. Actual shit.

"Grant, let me help you." Her big eyes gaze into mine calmly. "Let me be your anchor for a while."

.

* * *

><p>"Never turn your back on your enemy. You taught me that."<p>

She walks out if the room, stepping over my fallen body. I'm powerless to do anything but watch her walk away from me.

.

* * *

><p>"Take the Tylenol, Grant." Kara instructs me.<p>

"Mmmm." I try to talk, but my jaw hurts too much. My head hurts. My whole body hurts.

"Take the Tylenol." She insists.

I make a strangled noise in my throat. Kara leans in close, trying to hear what I'm saying.

"Skye." I murmur. "Skye."

"She's not here, Grant." Kara tells me patiently. "Remember?"

"Skye." I mutter again, and then Kara shoves the Tylenol down my throat.

.

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><p>"Thank you." I tell her a few days later, when I'm better. Kara's checking on my wounds, which are stitched up from when I tore them. We went to a hospital, and then snuck out without paying.<p>

The skin surrounding the wounds is stretched tight and pink, and could be easily broken again. I should probably take it easy from now on.

"You're welcome." Kara replies, tucking her fringe behind one ear.

"Want me to buy you a new Hello Kitty keyring?" I offer, my tone slightly teasing. Kara punches my good shoulder lightly.

"You're buying me two." She informs me. "You were like a huge baby when you were ill." Kara pauses. "You said her name, Grant."

"Whose name?" I ask her, frowning confusedly.

"Skye's." Her voice is quiet, her eyes fixed on my recovering injury.

"Oh."

.

* * *

><p>"Are you over her?" Kara wants to know as I attempt to teach her some recipes that won't taste too bad, even with her cooking.<p>

I consider my answer.

"No." I say finally.

.

* * *

><p>Kara decides what she wants to do.<p>

"I want to take down HYDRA." She tells me one day.

"Okay." I agree. "We'll take down HYDRA, as soon as I'm healed up."

"That sound like a plan." She smiles.

.

* * *

><p>"Who are you?" I ask her.<p>

"Kara Lynn Palamas." She answers immediately. "Hello Kitty fanatic, terrible cook, a loyal agent of S.H.I.E.L.D and hater of HYDRA."

"Good." I try to smile at her. Slowly but surely, Kara's remembering who she is, and what she wants to do. That's a positive thing, I think.

"Who are you, Grant?" She asks me back.

"Grant Douglas Ward. Traitor, murderer and Kara's anchor."

.

My answer still hasn't changed.

I don't think it will ever change.

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><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>


	4. Chapter 4: Understanding The Message

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><p><em><strong>Grant<strong>_

_"So, Robot." Skye starts conversationally as she stands next the punch bag, ready for training. "Do you ever smile?"_

_"We're here to train, Skye." I sigh, exasperatedly. "Not to discuss my facial expressions."_

_"Can't we do both?" She argues back, the smile on her lips indicating she's being humourous. She knows my stance on talking during training. It's a distraction. And I dislike distractions._

_"Fine, I get it. Just training." She nods, brushing a lock of her hair out of her face before she starts to punch the punch bag. She looks so beautiful, but I'm not allowed to think these thoughts. Because I'm her SO. Because my only priority is John. Not some hactivist._

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><p>"We're being followed." Kara tells me as we walk down the crowded streets of D.C. We're here investigating a possible link to a HYDRA base, for Kara.<p>

"You think I don't know?" I frown at her. Kara shrugs, the corner of her lips twitching up into a smile. She combs her fingers through her hair nervously, she smooths her fringe down over her face.

"So what are we going to do about it?" Kara wants to know. We keep walking at a moderate pace, but I start to move away from the street.

"Is it HYDRA?" She asks next.

"No." I reply as we slowly meander into an alley where we can deal with our follower discreetly. "It's SHIELD."

.

When I judge that we're far enough into the alley, I turn around.

Skye stands there.

I blink. Am I hallucinating? Or is Skye really standing there? She's dressed casually but I can still see the bulge of a gun underneath her jacket.

My eyes harden.

"What do you want?" Kara asks her in a level voice, judging correctly that seeing Skye's made me nervous.

"Relax, Agent 33." Skye's mouth attempts to smile, but it kind of looks mangled and out of place. "I'm not here to attack you. I just want to talk."

"Right." Kara's voice is practically dripping with sarcasm.

"Kara." I say quietly, placing a hand in between her shoulder blades. She glances up, her uncovered eye looking confused. "Let me talk to her."

"Grant." She warns me. "You're not ready."

"Kara." I smile at her. "I'll be fine, okay."

Skye watches our exchange with guarded eyes, and I wonder what she's doing here. What does she want? My bullet wounds itch slightly.

"Can we talk somewhere private?" Skye asks me. My breath hitches in my throat, remembering the look in her eyes when she shot me.

_Never turn your back on your enemy. You taught me that, remember?_

"Sure." I say. I gesture to the coffee shop across the street. It has large, clear windows and looks pretty full, so she can't shoot me. Also, the windows will mean that Kara will be able to monitor the situation the whole time. "How about in there?"

"Fine." Skye nods, and starts to walk to the coffee shop. Kara gives me a measured look.

"Be careful." She tells me quietly. I squeeze her shoulder quickly and start to follow Skye.

"I'll be watching." She calls after me.

* * *

><p>Skye has already sat down in the coffee shop, having chosen a table next to the window. I walk up to her as she gazes out of the window, her hands clasped in front of her. I pull the chair out opposite her and sit down. Outside it starts to drizzle.<p>

"What do you want?" I ask, getting straight to the point.

"To talk." Skye answers, her voice quiet and unsure.

"What, Coulson's sent his little lap dog to me?" My voice inadvertently turns cruel. But even as I speak, I realise that what I'm saying I'd true. Both Skye and I had father figures in SHIELD agents: for me, it was Garrett, and for her it is Coulson. Both of us followed their orders. Only difference is that my role model was wrong. He was twisted.

Skye's dark brown eyes register hurt at my comment, but I don't care. A waitress walk over to our table and asks us what we'd like to order. Skye smiles politely at her and asks for a latte. I decline to order. The waitress flashes me a brilliantly dazzling smile before she goes to deal with Skye's order. The rain outside pelts down harder, and I hope it's only a passing shower. For Kara's sake. Like a cat, she hates the rain.

"Coulson didn't send me." Skye says once the waitress has walked away. "I came alone, Ward. I wanted to make sure that-"

"That what?" I interject, leaning back in my chair. "That I got the message, to stay the hell away from you? 'Cause yeah, I got the message, Skye! The first and second bullets delivered that. The third bullet I can maybe understand, to keep me down, but the fourth was just over kill, Skye!" My voice steadily gets louder, and my breathing heavier. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Skye watches me carefully, brushing a lock of her hair behind one ear. There's an ache in my stomach, and I know it's because of her. Skye. It's always because of her.

"Relax, Skye. I won't be coming after you anymore. I won't be trying to get you anymore." I tell her once I'm back in control. The waitress walks back over and gives Skye her latte before moving on, tossing me mother charming smile as she does so. "You're free, Skye." I continue after the waitress is an acceptable distance away. "Because I won't pursue you again. I'm over you." As I speak, I realise the truth in my words. Although I might not be completely over her, but I'm definitely not going to chase her again. Because that didn't do anything for me. Instead, I want to focus on fixing Kara, and prove to myself just how easy it is to fix a broken person. To prove just how easy it would of been to save me.

Skye's fingers wrap around her cup, her knuckles going white. The table shakes slightly, ripples spreading out across the surface of her drink. Her eyes go wide in panic, but I ignore her reaction. She's silent for a long time. I glance out of the window, not seeing Kara, but I know she's out there somewhere. She wasn't an agent of SHIELD for nothing, after all.

"I had to shoot you, Ward." Skye says finally. I roll my eyes dramatically. "I couldn't trust you!"

"Seriously, Skye? That's what you're going with?" I mock her. One hand moves to my shoulder and I pull down my shirt and peel back the bandage Kara makes me wear to keep the wounds safe, showing the still raw wounds, which are still looking terrible because I ripped them back open. But she doesn't need to know that. Skye gasps slightly at seeing the tips of my bullet wounds. I push my shirt back up, fixing the bandage back in place.

"That's what you did to me, Skye." I say simply. "So why don't you run back to Coulson now. You can tell him I'm not doing anything to harm him or you. And I bet your leash is getting pretty short."

"Ward-" Skye begins, but I don't let her talk. Because I know if I do, I'll start to try and forgive her, and I don't want to do that. Skye broke my heart when she shot me. And I don't want to pursue someone like that.

"You tell him to keep away from me. You keep away from me, and Kara." I tell her. "Because if I ever see your face again... Make sure you never turn your back on me. Because I doubt you'd want to be shot." I get to my feet, the chair squeaking against the lino floor as I push it backwards.

"You and Agent 33?" Skye's question stops me from leaving. Her eyes are huge in her face, and they are beautiful. But they are also deadly. They aren't the same eyes as the girl I fell for. She was carefree. This girl would shoot me, and leave me to die, all over again without a second thought.

So I twist my lips into an attempt of a smile, and I do the only thing I can think of to hurt her. Because somehow I know that saying it will hurt her, and that's what I want to do.

"We're very happy together." I say before walking away, my hands clenched into fists in my pockets.

* * *

><p>Outside, I walk blindly, in some random direction, and Kara falls into step next to me. She has a hood over her head, but I let the drizzle hit my skin. I'm confused after seeing Skye, because that's what she does to me. She gets under my skin. Even when I don't want her there.<p>

"Why did you tell her we were together?" She asks simply.

"I don't know."

"Will she be back?" Kara smooths her fringe over her eye nervously.

I glance back at the coffee shop, and I imagine that I can see Skye still sitting at the table, sipping at her drink.

"I don't know." I admit. "But I hope not."

* * *

><p>"Coulson didn't send me." Skye's voice tells me, playing back from the coffee shop encounter. "But never turn your back on your enemy, Grant."<p>

"Skye!" I yell, staring into her dark brown eyes. "Don't do this."

"You taught me that." Skye smiles evilly, her eyes flashing. Her fingers curl around the gun, which is pointed at me.

"Skye! I love you!" Desperately, I try to convince her to lower the gun.

"Skye!"

"Skye!"

"_Skye_!"

"Coulson didn't send me. I'm alone. All this, is _my_ actions." Skye shoots me suddenly. The bullets hit me, piercing straight through my skin. I gasp, collapsing against the wall. Slowly, I slip to the ground, clutching at my chest.

"Skye..." I murmur.

"This is all me." Skye repeats, and then she grins again.

"Skye..." I glance up into her eyes. "I did this to you. I changed you into an agent."

"So what?" Skye twirls the gun in her hands.

"You work for SHIELD long enough, you'll become just like me. A murderer, and a liar." I tell her.

"Don't you get it, Grant?" Skye looks at me. "The message?" She kneels down next to me.

"The message?"

"One." Skye points at the first gun wound. "I hate you. Two. I want you dead. Three. I want you to suffer for the people you hurt. And four?" Skye grins maliciously. She leans in close to my ear, one hand still touching my wounds. Her hand is quickly soaked in blood as the red liquid oozes through her fingers. _"That was just for me."_

* * *

><p>I wake up suddenly.<p>

"Just a dream..." I mutter. "It was just a dream."


	5. Chapter 5: The Symphony Of The Broken

**Hey guys! Another shortish chapter, but the chapter kind of called to be ended there. **

**Thanks so much for all your support! Thanks to the 4 guest reviewers on the last chapter! **

**Maybe you could all drop me another review at the end?**

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><p><em><strong>Grant<strong>_

Skye.

Skye.

Skye.

Skye.

Skye.

Skye.

Skye.

I don't know how I should feel about her anymore. After seeing her today... it's messed my head up all over again. It's brought up all those old feelings I had, before she shot me. But her soft brown eyes... they weren't hers. Whatever happened in San Juan, it changed her, I could see. But she's no longer my concern, even if I want to.

I get to my feet. Kara and I are in a safe house we found - which is really just some sort of abandoned shack on the outskirts of town. So technically, we're squatters.

_Add that to my list of crimes_. I think to myself with a dark laugh. _Because compared to everything else I've done, I'm sure this latest crime will matter._ My internal voice drips with sarcasm.

I walk into the kitchen and see Kara in front too the stove.

"Hey, Grant." She smiles slightly at me as I cross the room to stand next to her. "I'm making cheese on toast. Want one?"

"I'm good." I tell her. I dig my palms I tot he counter top as I stare impassively at the cracked wall, which is painted a hideous shade of yellow. The colour is faded from too much sunlight exposure, and is pretty much disgusting. I move my eyes off the wall and onto Kara's face.

Her scar is still covered by her fringe, and I realise with a jolt that although I know that her face is May's, Kara doesn't make it look like May's. Even though it's an exact replica of Melinda May's face, it's not. It's May's features mixed in with the little nuances of Kara. Like how she tilts her head to one side while listening; the certain quirk to her lips when she smiles.

"Kara?"

"Mmhuh?" She makes a noise deep in her throat.

"Does it bother you that you have another woman's face?" I blurt out. I don't know why I ask her that, because it's bound to upset her, but once the question's out there, I can't take it back.

Kara's whole posture changes in one second.

"Of course it does." Her tone, though level, barely conceals her loathe at her face. And I know it's only concealed because of her respect complex towards me: you try and be civil around your boss, don't you?

"I look in the mirror, and I don't look back. She does." Kara continues, her disgusted tone intensifying as she says the word 'she'. "And I don't even remember what I really look like anymore, so I struggle to know who I am some days." She hesitates, and I can't help but feel bad for asking her. I knew it would bring up some bad thoughts for her, but still I asked. Why?

"Grant?" Kara asks finally. I glance at her.

"Yeah?" I ask her, my eyes half closed. I'm tired: the events of the day come crashing down around me.

"How did Garrett get you?" She asks. My eyes snap open. Like with her still lingering devotion to Whitehall, we don't talk about my connection to Garrett. But then again, I blasted open that door by asking her about her face, and seeing Skye today has left me emotionally drawn out. So maybe that's why I can't stop the words spilling out from between my lips.

"When a dog's been well trained, he'll do anything his master says." I start, staring off into the distance. "Imagine this. A man tells a dog to bite down on this squeaky toy and not let go, no matter what. Then another man tries to take it from the dog's mouth but the dog won't let go, because of what the first man commanded. So the first man beats the dog, over and over again, but the dog still doesn't let go."

"Grant, what-" Kara begins, but I just keep talking.

"That's because the animal's been trained to obey his master, no matter what. The dog has been conditioned. It would let it's own tail be broken without a whimper of pain because it's so well trained." I continue. "Garrett was a master at conditioning. He could turn even the most hopeless case into an armed weapon, easily. He excelled at conditioning." I pause, take a breath.

"Garrett found a kid, nearly 16 years ago. This kid, he didn't have a great home life, and he was already partly conditioned to obey his older brother and parents. But he did something stupid, and he disobeyed them, so then Garrett got him out of that mess, if the kid would work for him. The boy agreed, seeing it as his only way out." I clear my throat, closing my eyes.

"Somewhere in Wyoming, you can find this mountain covered by a forest. Garrett dumped the kid there and left him there for a total of 5 years, popping back to see him every now and then. In the first year, if you had given him a task, he would of refused to do it. The second year, he would of started it, and then slacked off. Third year? He would of done it, but grumbled throughout. By the fifth year, you ask him to do anything, and he would comply, no questions asked." I take another breath.

"Garrett could beat this kid senseless, and he'd never complain. Say if Garrett was to break this kid's ankle, and then if he was told to walk, the kid would do it, even though he had a broken ankle. Garrett could ask this boy to shoot himself, to break his own fingers, and he would do it."

I stop suddenly, how much I've revealed to Kara crashing down on me, but somehow, it feels good to have gotten this all out in the open. I feel... lighter.

"Grant, was that kid..." Kara hesitates. "Were you that kid?"

I nod.

"That's my story, Kara Palamas. And that is why I will always be a murderer, a traitor and a stupid kid who believed the words of a misguided man." I sigh.


	6. Chapter 6: Snakes Hide In Small Places

**Hey guys! Thanks for all the support so far, and who's looking forward to AoS coming back? Of course, because I live in England, I won't get it until 2 weeks after America :'(**

**But anyway, enjoy this and please review at the end!**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter Six: Snakes Hide In Small Spaces<strong>

_**Grant**_

HYDRA is everywhere.

Even now, after Whitehall's death, they still reign, even as SHIELD regains some control over the world again. I flick on the TV and watch as a representative for SHIELD - a certain Bobbi Morse, I think her name is - steps up and delivers a speech to the public. The speech is all about how SHIELD is not the enemy, and how HYDRA is, and that SHIELD are doing all they can to take HYDRA down.

"You're spouting crap." I tell the television. "Absolute crap. SHIELD is not a perfect organisation. It has flaws."

Although Garrett's logic was extremely flawed, he was right about one thing. SHIELD was willing to sacrifice people's lives if it compromised the whole organisation. Trust the system, they said. Let the higher levelled agents take care of it. And what did that ever get me? Even with that mission in South Ossetia with Fitz, Victoria Hand was willing to let us die for the greater good of SHIELD. And those are the sort of things Skye doesn't see. Her SHIELD created people like me. Her precious SHIELD created Garrett.

Skye once told me that she enjoyed working for the Rising Tide because it was like working in a huge jigsaw puzzle.

_"One person might not have all the pieces to a solution."_ I remember her saying. _"But a hundred people with 1 percent of the answer... that's beautiful, I think."_

And then I had told her that I was usually told that I was the only solution to the problem. That her and I saw the world very differently.

In a way, I was right. We both saw the world differently. She only saw the good pieces of SHIELD through working for Coulson's team, and even with the whole South Ossetia mission, she still chose to ignore the warning signs that SHIELD wasn't as cracked up as they claimed to be. They were willing to sacrifice their own agents for their own good.

SHIELD wasn't any better than HYDRA.

But she was too clouded by her belief in Coulson to see it.

.

Kara walks in, carrying a newspaper. She drops it to the counter I'm standing behind, and I mute the television. Kara glares at the newspaper with disgust.

"Read that." She instructs. I glance my eyes over the bold black headline, reading: _SHIELD vs HYDRA: __Organisation known as SHIELD to make a comeback. HYDRA are the true villains, spokesperson Bobbi Morse says._

"It's disgusting." Kara announces. "People are actually going to believe that?"

"Kara, you are loyal to SHIELD." I remind her gently.

"SHIELD, yes. Coulson..." She shakes her head, pulling her hair back into a ponytail, securing the hair at the base of her skull with her beloved Hello Kitty scrunchie. "No way in hell."

"Why?" I ask simply. I have to know her motivations behind her decisions: just to check that they are actually hers and not someone else's (mainly mine) that she's copying.

"Because, look at me, Grant." Kara says, her voice calm. She gestures to her face. "Why did this happen to me?"

"Melinda May wasn't happy to see you wearing her face?" I guess, my lips twitching into a small smile.

"This happened because Coulson failed to find me." Kara says frankly. "He knew HYDRA had me. He could of tried to find me. But he didn't. Because he couldn't be bothered to."

"You were in a high security facility." I don't know why I'm saying these words. It makes me sound like I'm on Coulson's side, which I'm definitely not. But maybe Kara needs me to argue back against her, so she can clear her views up.

"If one of his close team, Skye maybe, had been captured, would that of mattered?" Kara points out. "No. It wouldn't of. He abandoned me."

I realise that Kara's right. Coulson doesn't care about his agents other than his close knit team. He's willing to sacrifice others, even me with the whole Christian thing, for his own good. Coulson is not the good, benolvent man he pretends to be.

He's as corrupt as all the others. But he's also one of the best men I know.

It's confusing. I hate Coulson with a passion because of how he acts, pretending to be better than HYDRA. But on the other hand, the man that was on the Bus with me, before the rise of HYDRA... He was a good man. That man sometimes makes me wonder whether betraying the team to HYDRA was worth it.

But then I think about what kind of man he is now, and I remember all that HYDRA has given me. Although they are my enemies along with SHIELD right now, they also saved me, in a way, through Garrett. At least with Garrett I had a purpose instead if just ending up as that kid that no one knew the name off, rotting away in prison for the rest of his life. At least with Garrett, I was something.

Kara opens her mouth, as if to say something, but before she can, the door is busted wide open, and gunfire fills the room.

* * *

><p>Kara and I react fast, her ducking behind the table and me grabbing the gun stuffed into my waistband. I aim it at the door.<p>

"Whoever you are, come out." Kara shouts, so it seems like she's the only one in the room. Slowly, I crouch down next to her, keeping my gun ready to shoot. I glance at Kara, asking her with my eyes where her gun is. She jerks her head to one side, indicating that she's left it in the bedroom.

_Shit_. I curse. Of all the times she could leave it somewhere, and it's when we're under attack? Typical.

"Agent 33?" A familiar male's voice calls. Next to me, Kara stiffens. They want her? Why?

My finger presses down slowly on the trigger.

"We just want to talk to you." The voice calls again.

It sounds like... I frown. Coulson? But why would SHIELD want Kara? Do they think she can be an ally to their cause? And what are they going to think when they find me here with her?

"Step into the room." Kara calls suddenly. "But if you try any funny business, I have a friend here who won't hesitate to shoot you."

Coulson, if that's who it is, is silent, probably thinking, she has company?

"What are you doing?" I ask Kara in a voice just above a whisper.

"Trust me." She mouths back.

"Okay, we're coming in." Coulson answers finally, and then he steps in the room.

I flatten my back against the counter, making my breaths even and slow. I listen to Kara get to her feet and move towards Coulson. I notice a hole in the counter, so I watch through that, ready to shoot if needs be.

My body stiffens as I see Melinda May walk in behind Coulson, her gun in clear site.

_Great_. I think bitterly to myself._ The Calvary. Just what I need._

Coulson has his hands out bare, and Kara evalutes him with a cool, steely expression. I see May's faint look of annoyance at seeing her face on someone else's face before it vanishes off her face. I just hope Kara didn't see it. The last thing she needs is seeing how much May despises Kara's face.

"Agent 33." Coulson attempts to smile.

"How did you find me?" Kara cuts right to the chase. "Actually, scratch that: _why_ did you find me?"

"Agent 33-" Coulson starts, but May cuts him off, her calculating eyes darting around the whole room.

"Who's your partner?" May demands. "Where is he?"

Kara ignores her. I can't help but smile. Kara's stronger now than she has been since Whitehall's death.

"My name is Kara." She says coldly.

"Okay, Kara." Coulson nods, still acting like the friendly man he pretends to be. He's acting wary of her, but his face looks tired, drawn, like something has stressed him out.

"What do you want?" Kara is curt.

"Agent 33 - _Kara_ - we have came to offer you a job with SHIELD. Stay with us, and we'll try and find a way to get your face back to normal. You can work for SHIELD again, and start living your life again." Coulson pleads with her.

"You want me to work for you again?" Kara says slowly, as if she's considering the offer. But I know better, especially after what she said earlier. Although if she chose to join SHIELD, I wouldn't stop her. I would send her on her way with my blessing, if that's what she really wanted.

"Yes." Coulson nods. "Will you? I know you, Kara. I've read your file. You were a great SHIELD agent. Come and be one again."

"I won't." Kara answers sharply. May glances up in surprise.

"Why?" Coulson sounds genuinely shocked that she would refuse.

"Because SHIELD abandoned me." Kara raises her head high.

"We couldn't rescue you-" May says, but Kara cuts her off.

"If had been your Skye, you would of done anything to get her back. But because it's me..." She shakes her head. "I'm not important enough.

"No!" Coulson protests.

"We couldn't risk it. As an agent, you should understand this." May points out.

Kara takes a step back.

"I don't care. All I know is, without SHIELD, I've done a lot better than I ever did with you."

Her leg is right next to me. I could reach out and touch it, but I know that would give the game up. So I just keep quiet.

"Agent 33, who have you got here?" Coulson's tone turns suspicious. "Did they - whoever they are - tell you that?"

"Whitehall isn't here to control you." May chimes in. Kara visibly shudders at the name Whitehall, the name reminding her of how she used to act, under his brainwashing.

"No!" Her voice is loud and sharp. Coulson blinks, surprised by the intensity of her voice. "This is _my_ decision. Not anyone else's. _I_ made my mind up, myself. I am loyal to SHIELD. But I am not, and will _never_ be, loyal to you."

Coulson and May are silent, shocked into silence. I feel a smile twitch on my lips. Kara is getting her own mind back. And maybe, if she starts to become who she really is again, I can start and build up who Grant Ward is outside Garrett, outside HYDRA, outside SHIELD, even outside of Christian. Maybe I can just be... me.

"I make my own decisions." Kara continues. "I have for a while now. And although the old Kara might of trusted you, I can't. Not until you start changing how you act, how SHIELD acts. And I definitely can not join you while you lie about SHIELD. You are not the good guys."

"Neither is HYDRA." May says quietly.

"I know that." Kara snaps. "But SHIELD isn't either. You are just as bad as each other. So no, I will not come back with you, Coulson." She raises her head proudly. "You can see yourself out."

My smile widens into a grin at her last sentence. Who knew that the true Kara could be so funny?

"Alright, if you can't be persuaded..." Coulson shakes his head and leaves the place, to my surprise. I had expected him to fight back, but maybe he realises that Kara is a flight risk. But but why isn't he eliminating the threat? I frown. Something is different about Coulson. He seems... broken. Tired. Not the man I knew. _Something happened._ I decide. _After Puerto Rico. Something happened that destroyed him from the inside out._

But what?

May goes to follow him but pauses in the doorway.

"Ward, have you seen Skye?" She asks. Both Kara and I freeze, as still as statues. Kara glances at me, panic written in her dark eyes, asking me what to do. I stare back at her, my brain working at a million miles per hour.

_She knows I'm here?_

Of course. She's Melinda May, after all.

Calmly I get to my feet and face her, schooling my face into a neutral expression. Kara stands next to me, her brow furrowed as she tries to figure out my strategy here.

"No." I say in a level voice. "I haven't." I raise an eyebrow as I learn this new information. Does that mean that when I last saw her, she wasn't with SHIELD? Why? "Isn't she with you?"

May merely turns around, turning her back on me. It occurs to me that I could shoot her right now, but I don't. My gun hangs loosely by my side. My finger isn't even on the trigger.

I've changed. The old me would of shot her, no questions asked.

"I'll leave you to live another day, Ward." She calls back. "But next time our paths cross, I'll kill you, I swear."

"Looking forward to it!" I yell impulsively after her, a huge, fake smile on my lips.


End file.
